Emily Middleton was a close friend of Army Reserve Spc. Kennedy L. Sanders, one of three Georgia reservists killed in an attack on an American outpost in Jordan last weekend. They have known each other since second grade, and Sanders was the maid of honor at Middleton’s wedding. Middleton, 24, spoke to an Atlanta Journal-Constitution reporter and shared, in her own words, what she might now say to Sanders, whom she called “KeKe” or “Munch,” short for “Munchkin,” a nod to Sanders’ diminutive size. President Joe Biden told Sanders’ parents on Tuesday that Sanders was being promoted posthumously to sergeant. Middleton mentioned the outpouring of support for Sanders in their South Georgia hometown of Waycross, where flags fly at half-staff, where Kennedy Sanders Day will be celebrated in June, where the street where Sanders’ family lives will be renamed in the soldier’s honor. The following account, lightly edited for clarity, is from an interview and from Middleton’s own writing. It is Middleton’s message to her fallen friend.
Hey, KeKe,
I don’t understand why this happened.
God, this is hard.
I can’t wrap my head around this.
I don’t want to believe this is true.
I feel like you’re just gonna pop up and be like, “Hey, I’m here.”
My heart hurts, Munch. I’ll never get to see your smile again. I’ll never get to see you play with my babies again. I’ll never get to call you for last-minute lunch dates. Your neighbors will never get to hear me honking at you because we were running late. But we were never on time for anything.
I hope you know how proud we are of you. Life will never be the same.
I was so glad that God gave Jersei, your baby niece, to your mama because Jersei looks just like you.
I feel selfish wanting you back.
Something that makes it so hard, too, is that all this is worldwide. I have not watched the news. I’ve tried to stay off TikTok.
Credit: Emily Middleton
Credit: Emily Middleton
Everywhere I look, your face is there. It re-starts everything.
Here in Waycross at Lowe’s, where you worked, they’ve got stuff in your honor. They’ve got signs up for you. McDonald’s had a sign thanking you for your service. Another fast-food place had “Rest in Peace, Sgt. Sanders.”
Everywhere I go, you’re there.
You would not believe how many people supported you and loved you. I mean, all of Waycross. All the love. And not just from your friends.
I know you would hate being the center of attention. You did not like all eyes on you.
People are putting ribbons on their mailboxes. Yellow ones and purple ones because purple was your favorite color. I know, you would absolutely cringe. But I know you would love it at the same time.
I’m thinking about the last time I saw you in August, and how I’ll never see you again. But I can still see you that last time when we were at your going-away party, at Cavagnaros, the restaurant. You were holding my newborn daughter, Landree.
Credit: Emily Middleton
Credit: Emily Middleton
Now my oldest girl, Addi, my 5-year-old, is absolutely heartbroken that her KeKe is not coming home from her job. That’s what we always told Addi when you went away, that you had to be at work. But we told her you would come back and we could all pick you up at the airport.
Addi has slept with your Army bear for the last week. All she can say is, “I don’t want KeKe to go to heaven. I want her to be here to play.”
My heart hurts even more that you won’t be here to watch my children and Jersei grow up.
I am so thankful I got to be in your life and you got to be in mine. You were my person. You were a blessing to me and so many others.
You made everyone proud.
I can’t put into words how much we already miss you. But it’s us forever, Munch, and I will stand on that until I see you again.
I love you so much,
Emmylou
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